Something About Lonely Nights (Sit Back Down Where You Belong)
by unoriginalrhombus
Summary: "Quinn Fabray was barely eighteen when she decided to reinvent herself. She had achieved two National Championships, garnered her diploma, and was nearly done securing her full ride scholarship to Yale. Quinn wasn't the person she had always wanted to be, but she was well on her way to being something." (Sequel to: I Travel Back Down That Road) (Quinn centric with endgame Faberry)


_**A/N: Hey guys! So this is the somewhat sequel to a fic I wrote a while ago called I travel back down that road (it was only just a dream). This fic is longer and it was certainly harder for me because I don't know if I got Quinn's voice right, but the story wouldn't leave me, SO. Please read and review and tell me what you liked, didn't like, etc. Have a good night!**_

**Something About Lonely Nights**

**(Sit Back Down Where You Belong)**

Quinn Fabray was barely eighteen when she decided to reinvent herself. She had achieved two National Championships, garnered her diploma, and was nearly done securing her full ride scholarship to _Yale_. Quinn wasn't the person she had always wanted to be, but she was well on her way to being _something_.

She had spent the better part of her high school years tormenting, scheming, pushing, ruining, destroying, and plotting against her student body so that she could feel important and powerful and like she was somewhere and worth something.

In the end, all she really felt was alone.

In the end, all of it just secured her future of being alone.

Quinn didn't (no, she couldn't) be the same the same girl at Yale. Yale was the place where people (and dreams) were made. She wanted to have conversations and movie dates, she wanted friends meeting for coffee and 2AM talks about anything and everything. She wanted youth and freedom and crazy moments. She wanted the chance to be anyone other than "that one pretty girl".

It's insane because Quinn can remember a time when all she wanted to ever do and breathe and _be_ was that pretty girl.

And now, all she can think is that it's sad to be this _thing_ instead of just being Lucy. Quinn likes to think that if she could go back, she would choose Lucy. She wouldn't push her down and bury her, she'd let her be free and be herself because then Quinn wouldn't feel like such a fake anymore.

She likes to think that she wouldn't be so shallow. She likes to think that she would choose friendship and love and _possibilities_ over beauty and popularity. Quinn likes to believe that that's what would happen.

Then again, Quinn was always at her best when she was lying to herself.

She's trying, she notes, to make herself different. It starts with small things: dinners with her mother, letters to Beth, friend requests on FaceBook to Glee Clubbers, money towards a savings account (towards a future).

But the small things have always been _small_ and before Quinn knows it, half of her summer has just disappeared, just like Lucy, and Quinn is still the same old Quinn.

Quinn decides that she needs something bigger, better, and worth more. Something that isn't small and something that isn't quite Quinn. She needs actions, heartbreak, and options.

She decides that if she's going to build bridges, she might as well start with the burned ones.

* * *

She settles on the biggest, hardest bridge she had to burn (Santana), and decides that that's the best place to start.

Their first interaction since graduation is awkward at best. Santana looks suspicious and paranoid that the old Quinn is going to make an appearance. As though Quinn is still the sixteen year old girl who got Santana kicked to the bottom of the pyramid and got her grounded for two months.

(Maybe she is, maybe she'll always be that girl.)

Maybe she'll always carry her around. The girl who felt more secure with self loathing than she did with actual words. Maybe she'll never be able to escape her, but Quinn finally has the desire to at least _try_ and that has to count for something.

After an excruciating hour and three cups of poorly made coffee, Quinn counts the day as a win. Mostly because Santana isn't strangling her and Quinn isn't contemplating a crazy scheme that would make everything "better" (always better).

They don't talk about anything that matters, not really. But when have they ever? It's a dance (like always) to see who will lead and who will follow, and it's not until later that night that Quinn decides she's fine with being neither.

Santana shakes her hand instead of hugging her when their awful attempt at friendship is over. It's weird, but Quinn can roll with it. It's that first time that Santana and her have made any sort of physical contact that wasn't intended to injure the other. It's weird, but Quinn will take it.

The old Quinn would have pointed out all the misdirections and run-ons in their conversation because she was the seeker of imperfection (as long as it led to anywhere and anyone but herself). But this Quinn (the different, yet same Quinn) decided to focus on the good things. The moments that didn't remind her of Lima or her mother or divorce or small towns.

This Quinn was certainly _trying_.

* * *

Quinn is eighteen and a few months when she decides to end with Finn.

It's two days before she leaves for Yale. She's excited because this is her opportunity to succeed and thrive in a place that isn't haunting. This is a chance for Quinn to really be Quinn and maybe she doesn't even know what or who that is yet, but she can't wait to show everybody when she does figure it out. She can't wait to show everyone how she was always somebody who was worth it all along.

It's fitting, in a sense, that he's her last. Especially when there was a time where he had always been her first. Quinn knows that by now he's heard of her "so-longs" to those who are staying behind, her "good-lucks" to those that are moving forward, and her "miss-yous" to those _mattered_ but that she had never told. He's heard of her promises to keep in touch with Rachel (because it had always been and always will be that way with Rachel) and her efforts to make those promises to everyone else.

Still, Quinn doesn't _care_.

Finn is last (because he should have always been last) for a reason. He holds all of Quinn's mistakes and Quinn's failures as if he's saving them for a display. It's aggravating to know that someone has such a big part of her (and always will), not because he was special, but because he was easy. He wasn't love, he was _there_. Finn never represented Quinn's freedom to be happy, he represented Lima and the things she was always chained to be, and she couldn't keep Finn (even if she wanted to). She needed to leave him and Lima far behind, before she became just as cold and unpromising as this town had always been.

She doesn't owe Finn a "so-long", she owes him a goodbye. She tells him as much when he meets her at the Lima Bean. She wants to make this quick because her father always said it was easier if you just ripped off the band-aid. Plus, Santana is waiting for her outside. They have plans to go _be_ for a while with Brittany and Quinn doesn't want to break that, not when Santana had burrowed so close to her heart these past few weeks.

Her friendship with Santana-just like this goodbye- is easy for Quinn, and both surprise her, since she had led herself to believe otherwise. Quinn's ready to let go and begin anew and she tells Finn that. She figures that bridges are still bridges, even if you were always meant to burn them, and she owes him that much.

Finn, for all his offbeat moments and charming characteristics, is incredibly arrogant. He proves as much when he questions Quinn's goodbye.

"Is this because you're still in love with me?"

It's irritating, the amount of self confidence Finn has. It's aggravating, his ability to turn Quinn's need into something that's about him. Quinn has to bite her tongue to keep from mentioning all the ways in which Finn was _average_. She has to prevent herself from shouting that this was never-could never- be about him because he reeks of mediocre lives and unchased dreams. He had nothing to offer her anymore because she wanted something bigger and Finn was just one of those people who would never be bigger (and would never try). Finn was average, he'd always be average. She had only wanted him all those years ago because he was her safest choice.

Finn had only ever been desirable because he was safe, because when Quinn was with him, she was safe from herself. She was safe from her imperfections and her doubts and her failures. She was safe from her mind. With Finn she wouldn't have ever failed because she wouldn't have ever _tried_.

Quinn didn't want to be safe anymore.

"No, Finn. This isn't about us, okay? It's about me. I'm-God, I'm changing and-and..."

Finn frowned. "And, what?"

Quinn steadied herself and tried to deliver her blow in the softest way possible. Just because she didn't like Finn didn't mean he didn't deserve happiness or the truth. "And you're not."

It took a few minutes, but Quinn knew Finn would recognize an insult when he heard one. "A giraffe can't change it's stripes, Quinn. You'll never change."

Quinn grabbed Santana's coffee off the table and stood up. This conversation was clearly over. "It's _zebra_, Finn. A zebra can't change it's stripes."

Quinn pushed her chair back and slid her glasses on in irritation. Her leg ached (it always ached), but Quinn pushed forward, leaving Finn in her dust. She pushed open the door and limped her way to Santana's VW Jetta. She opened the passenger door, slid in, and slammed the door, efficiently waking up Santana in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Q. Next time give me a courtesy tap or something." Santana grumbled.

Quinn sighed. She handed Santana her coffee. "Sorry, S. I'm also sorry about your coffee. It's probably a little bitter."

Santana looked at Quinn and grinned.

"Luckily for you, I don't mind. I like my coffee like I like my women: scorned."

Quinn laughed away that afternoon, the old Quinn, and the past four years, on the ride to Brittany's house.

* * *

Quinn is eighteen and a half when she realizes that college is never going to be like high school. She's survived her first semester at Yale, made the Dean's list, she's an officer in both the Yale Glee Club and GSA (she blames that one on Santana, just because she's not ready for whatever it means yet) and she's been asked to pledge for a sorority. She talks to Tina, Mercedes, Mike, Puck, and Joe at least once a week. She skypes Santana and Brittany daily and she's even managed to email Kurt and Blaine a few times.

It feels good because this is what she'd always wanted, she wanted to succeed and feel welcomed and not feel crazy. It feels good to finally feel like she has her shot at happiness, but it also feels like something is missing. She ignores the feeling most of the time because she has friends and people who care and she isn't alone anymore.

Except for the fact that she always feels like she's alone.

It feels like she's still the same Quinn, she just shows herself less often. It feels like she's just pretend, like she's going through the motions. It's like Quinn went back to that time where she was practically an illusion, when people only saw Quinn for what they wanted to see. When she was "The Quinn Fabray" instead of just Quinn.

God, how she wants to be just Quinn.

She pushes it down and tries to let it go because she might not have somebody like Santana has Brittany, but at least she has _something_. If there's anything her father taught her, it's that something is always better than nothing.

Even if that nothing is you.

* * *

Quinn Fabray is nineteen when she receives a letter in her dorm room. She's recently started her second year at Yale, she has a job in the library, and she's pushing her way towards a double major. She doesn't talk to Kurt or Blaine that often anymore (which is fine because she's never really been that close to them, anyway). she doesn't really know what happened to Joe, he just sort of _disappeared_. Last she heard he went to go _find_ himself. She speaks to Tina and Mike (who are back on _again_) at least a few times a month, she makes sure to call Puck every few weeks to make sure he's still breathing (and he does the same), and she skypes Mercedes at least once a week.

She still skypes Brittany and Santana daily, as well as calling them on the regular. It surprises her sometimes, how close they still all are, but she likes that this is where they were always going. She wouldn't take back their Unholy Trinity, not in a million years.

She hasn't quite found happiness yet, but she thinks she's on the right track to _success_, and her father always said that success leads to happiness.

She's so caught up in the system of '_class, work, friends, Santana and Brittany' _that she had almost started to believe this had always been her life. She catches the end of the sender address and panics when she reads **NEW YORK**.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who sent it. It's a letter from a place she used to be and a girl she used to hate. It's terrifying because she's already gotten so used to this world that Quinn doesn't want to go back.

Except, she can't deny the ache the letter fills her with. It's like home and she automatically hates the feeling (automatically hates _everything_).

It's like being sixteen, vulnerable, and alone again and Quinn immediately decides that she hates it. She hates anything that's going back to Lima, she hates everything that's born and bred and comes from Lima. She hates anything that isn't moving forward.

But, still, there was a time and a place and there was Rachel.

_Rachel_.

Quinn's curiosity gets the best of her (like it always did when it came to Rachel) and she found herself thinking about the things she used to, the way she used to, the girl she used to.

**Used- showing wear or being worn out.**

**Quinn- was used too.**

It was a mess, the way her thoughts were always a mess when it came to Rachel and Lima and _Beth_. It was intense and too much and Quinn became acutely aware of just how alone she was, how alone she had always felt.

So she opens the letter.

She opens it and reads all four pages. She reads and she reads until she's tired of analyzing every word. She contemplates replying, (of course, always contemplating), of using the bus pass that Rachel had sent her (with the promise of: "we can always try and be friends, just try"). Quinn thought about getting on that bus and sharing a friendship with Rachel. A friendship that she had always wanted, but for reasons she hadn't really understood.

She thought about all of it, and then she put the letter in her drawer.

Some things were just better off left alone, anyway.

* * *

Quinn Fabray is nineteen and a half when she gets another letter. A colder, different, larger letter. She's accomplished, in her own right. She's made it through more of Yale than any citizen of Lima could ever imagine. She's recently had an article done on her in the paper and her school's Glee Club has recently received an offer to appear in The Sing Off.

It doesn't take a genius to see that she's thriving.

Quinn still speaks to Santana and Brittany religiously. She doesn't think she could have made it this far if it wasn't for their words of encouragement and their straight up belief that Quinn had what it takes (that she had always had what it takes). She skypes Mercedes and Puck when she can and she emails Tina and Mike (who are off, _again_) when she isn't busy in the mad rush that is her life.

Quinn's terrified when she sees it. It looks like something she hid away once. It looks like her mistakes wrapped in a neat, pristine envelope. It reminds her of another envelope (one that's terrifying for a completely different reason) that's still sitting in her drawer, untouched.

Just like the first time, Quinn can't help herself. Maybe that's always been her problem, that she could never help herself.

It's no wonder how curiosity killed the cat, Quinn decides, after opening the letter-no, _invite_. Quinn pours herself over the invite, with it's curly, beautiful writing. It reminds her of her life, how it curls in only the nice directions while always just being _there_.

She hates it. God, how she hates it.

She reads the invite and she just knows that not a lot has changed because she's still just as powerless as she used to be. She's still just that sixteen year old girl who let her father kick her out of her home. She's still the girl who aimed to please anyone except herself.

Quinn reads the invite to her parents "re-wedding" and she feels sick to her stomach. She rethinks the past year and tries to envision a time when she saw this coming, but she can't think of one instance.

Before she knows it, she's curled into a ball on her bathroom floor. She can't breathe and she can't think and she feels like she's going to explode. Quinn had pushed forward all these years because she had finally felt like she was escaping all her demons, but it turns out that her demons would never leave. They were there to serve as a constant reminder of what could have been, what probably would have been if she wasn't careful.

Quinn can't handle it and she can't call Santana because even if she's the closest thing Quinn has to a best friend, she still won't get it. It's hard to explain to someone how she feels like she's constantly running, how she'll always be running, and how she isn't really going anywhere.

This isn't happiness, this is far from it. This is her life and it _sucks_. She can't remember how she got here, how she's still alone, or how her father managed to capture her mother _again_ when all Quinn has managed is something akin to success. It gives her heart palpitations, it gives her stress.

Success at solitude, success at impressions, success at materialistic ventures.

Quinn's overwhelmed like she always is when it comes to her father. She doesn't know what she has control over anymore and she's at her wits end. She just needs something, _anything_.

So she takes something, she takes everything.

She lifts her head up and sticks it over the toilet bowl. When she sees the water, she only sees herself, and it's sickening. So Quinn changes it. She sticks her fingers in her mouth. She starts pushing and she keeps pushing, even after her body protests.

The fingers feel intrusive and Quinn can't help but think about how ironic that is, how she's always been ironic. They're intrusive but comforting, because even if she's never known what this is, she knows where it's going.

The first time she pushes she can't help but gag. It's dry and hard and she almost stops. But Quinn Fabray has never been a quitter, so she pushes again.

She watches as her lunch comes up, and then her breakfast, and some of last nights dinner. She watches, as it meshes together with her dreams and for once, she actually feels like she's accomplished something.

So she keeps pushing.

She pushes until there's nothing left but a disgusting taste in her mouth and tears in her eyes. It's awful, painful, and disgusting. Most of all, it's reassuring. It's nice to know that after all these year, Quinn Fabray still has what it takes to take control over something.

It's nice to know that something else can finally feel as empty as her heart.

She cuts off her mother, afterward.

She never really had parents to begin with, anyway.

* * *

Quinn declines the invitation. Instead, she books a flight to Los Angeles for the summer. She'd rather spend all of her days with Santana in a God foresaken hell hole (Santana & Brittany's apartment), then she would ever willingly spend a day back in Lima. Especially not a day of presentations.

She doesn't stop making herself throw up. It's calming and a release and Quinn feels like she needs it to function. She feels like it broke her down and started her back up again in one moment, and she likes that feeling.

She likes having control again.

Quinn Fabray is twenty when she's spends her summer in Los Angeles. She's completed her second year of Yale, she has an internship position at the tips of her fingertips, and she's started this _thing_ with the president of her school's GSA.

It's weird and confusing because this person happens to be a _girl_ and Quinn had never considered going down this path before. But Quinn makes sure every interaction only happens within the security of alcohol. It makes things easier to forget and harder to remember.

It makes Quinn feel alive.

This girl (Chloe) is like electricity and Quinn just constantly wants to feel like she's running through Quinn's veins. But that's something else altogether.

Chloe's pretty, but she's no Rachel.

It's the easiest she's ever had it (the closest she's ever been), so Quinn decides to take it as it comes. She's okay with Santana and Brittany and it's sweet to be around people that she loves. Plus, anything is better than Lima.

Everything is better than _that_.

* * *

She's caught up in the day-to-day activity of "sunbathing, bubble tea, dinner, beaches, friends, and laughter" that most of the summer just seems to sweep by. She doesn't question anything and she doesn't try for anything, she just lets herself live caught up in the moment.

Quinn continues to talk to Chloe and she continues to make herself throw up (it's not as frequent now that she's with Santana, but it's forever there, underneath the surface. Underneath her thoughts) because she's not ready to give up the one thing that's finally _hers._

In fact, she's in Starbucks waiting for Santana to finish her shift when it happens. She's flirting with Chloe via text and it's giving her the best adrenaline rush. Her phone vibrates again and Quinn scrambles to read the message.

_The legalized gay marriage in New York! My fair maiden, when you return from your slumber parties abroad, I have many things planned for us. First, an outing of grandeur (and waffles). Secondly, a show, for all great ladies deserve a show. Thirdly, we shall be wed in a ceremony that will rival Kim Kardashian's. For you are the only maiden that I want to share my 401K with._

Quinn couldn't stop the smile that broke across her face. Chloe was such an easy distraction and Quinn had always been a fan of things that were easy.

"You have such a lovely smile."

Quinn snapped her head up and pushed her phone underneath some napkins. She was still paranoid of someone somewhere realizing exactly what she was doing and she wasn't ready for reality yet. Quinn looked at the man who had just spoken to her. He was handsome and he was clearly aging. He was wearing a suit (even though it was nearing a hundred degrees outside) and it was clear to Quinn that the man came from money.

Quinn had no use for a man like him, she'd grown up around men like him. "Thank you."

The man smiled. "I know this is going to sound forward, bu-"

Quinn held up her hand to interrupt the stranger. "Look, sir, I'm flattered. _Really_, I am. But I'm not interested."

The man laughed. "I'm not hitting on you."

"Really? Then what would you call this?"

"An investment." The man pulled out a card from his wallet and placed it on the table. "A face like yours...I could do something big with something so rare."

Quinn frowned. She waited until he left before she grabbed the card off the table.

**Rilo Kennick: Manager of new talent.**

Quinn scoffs at the card because, really? Couldn't he come up with a catch phrase?

She calls the number anyway.

Quinn Fabray is twenty-one when she gets a break she never expected. She's offered a spot on a show that has the ability to become _huge_ and Quinn can't contain her joy.

It feels like just yesterday she had called Rilo, it feels like she was just at her first modeling shoot, her first commercial. It feels like the first time she's ever had success.

She has to quit school, Quinn knows it now. She's tried so hard to maintain her schooling but she can't deny that she's been dropping the ball. Her grades are great but everything else is failing and Quinn knows she doesn't have it in her to get through another year like this, not right now.

Santana is so proud, and it's the biggest (and only) sign that Santana has never stopped changing. Santana's writing and succeeding in her own areas. She tells Quinn to go for it because, "God, only Quinn would consider passing up an opportunity like this."

Quinn wants to go for it, she really does. She's just terrified. This is Quinn putting all her eggs in one basket. This is Quinn signing herself over.

It's in this moment that she thinks about that letter in a drawer, the letter she couldn't respond to. She let's her thoughts drift to New York, Rachel, and dreams, and that's when she knows she has to take it.

The character is everything Rachel was (except less) in high school. Quinn feels like she owes Rachel this. It's the biggest way, the only way she has, where she can show Rachel that she cares (always, forever always).

So she takes it and she prays that Rachel will see it. She takes the role and ends things with Chloe, because it doesn't feel right anymore.

Quinn prays and she hopes that maybe this time...this time she'll come out happy.

* * *

Quinn Fabray is twenty two when she's nominated for her first Emmy. She's all young hopes and wild imaginations. She's accomplished (for a girl who's never felt accomplished) and she's succeeding beyond her craziest dreams.

She spends most of her days exhausted because she's always at work or at a work-related function, and she spends most of her nights trying not to pass out before nine. It's hard, but Quinn feels a tingle in the tips of her fingers these days. She's starting to believe that's the feeling of _feeling_ like you're vaguely worth it.

Santana is her date because she's Quinn's rock.

Rilo tells her not to get her hopes up. He tells her that it's rare for an actress to win an Emmy their first go around.

_Actress_.

Quinn finds that her profession is oddly fitting, considering the fact that she's been acting all her life. She's been the main act this whole time.

She doesn't expect to win. She doesn't expect anything at all. She's just glad to be noticed, to finally feel like she's mending the fences in her life.

Quinn doesn't expect an Emmy, so she drinks entirely too much champagne with Santana. She drinks and she flirts (for fun) and she gives a little too much away to reporters (but still not quite enough). She's an expert at this sort of thing. After all, she carried around that celibacy club motto as if it were her badge.

It's all about the teasing and not about the pleasing.

She drinks too much, she let's go too much, and she's having a bit too much fun when she hears the people on stage call her name. She fumbles with her chair and she's not entirely sure which direction to go. A minute ago she was just a loser and now she's this. It's too much for her drunken mind to handle.

It's Santana that saves her (again and again) by steering her in the direction of the stage. Santana gives Quinn a soft shove and a gentle "I love you, you bitch."

Quinn looks back over her shoulder and mouths, "thank you" to Santana. She receives a nod in reply.

By the time Quinn gets to the stage her brain is less addled. She remembers the things that Rilo told her to say, she knows what she's supposed to do. She just doesn't want to.

Quinn looks out into the crowd and all she can see is everything that is so unequivocally _Rachel_. She sees everything that should have always been Rachel's (but has somehow become hers). The moment that thought crosses her brain, it's like the sky opens up, and Quinn suddenly knows what she has to do.

"I know there's a speech that I should be giving right now. Believe me when I say I'm thankful to everyone who helped me get here and I'm thankful to everyone who's guiding me along...but I promised myself years ago that if I ever made it and somebody, somewhere, was crazy enough to give me one of these." Quinn lifts the award and shakes it a little, earning a laugh from the audience. "That I'd give credit where it's due. So, Rachel Berry, this is for you. Goodnight."

It feels a lot like she just confessed her soul to America, but, fuck it. It only matters if Rachel hears it, anyway.

She really hopes that Rachel hears it.

* * *

Quinn Fabray is twenty four when she finally acknowledges the torch she's been carrying around for years. It's for Rachel because of course, everything Quinn has done or burned or beaten was for Rachel.

She still talks to Mercedes, Tina, and Mike (who are back together _again_). She lost track of Puck somewhere along the way and she thinks it has a lot to do with Finn. Some beggars could never be choosers, she decides.

She sees Santana and Brittany when she can. It's easier now that they're in the same city, but harder as well. Brittany's dancing career has exploded in the past couple years and Santana has successfully created and managed her first production (which was a HIT).

It's insane, Quinn thinks, because she's successful now. She has a great career, she's in movies that make a difference, and she's finishing up her final season with her first show.

She shouldn't need validation, she should create it.

But she still feels that hole in her heart and that void in her belly, and jeez, she has absolutely no idea how to fix it. Quinn has no idea how to make herself happy.

She still finds herself thinking about Rachel in the dead of night. It starts off innocently at first. She has her assistant look her up because she wants to know that Rachel made it, too. She needs to know that somebody else with dreams was able to escape and succeed. Her assistant brings her back articles upon articles that show Rachel's success, and Quinn is thrilled.

The hole in her heart feels a little bit smaller.

It's not until months later that Quinn realizes her weird feelings haven't gone away. If anything, now that she's acknowledged it, they've grown _stronger_.

Quinn thinks about Rachel more and more now. Only some of it is innocent. Some of her thoughts are just curious questions. However, some...some of her thoughts are just something else.

Her thoughts start turning into her dreams. Dreams filled with Rachel and Quinn. Dreams where they're happy...together. Dreams where Quinn doesn't feel alone anymore, dreams where Quinn gets to touch Rachel (where she gets to taste her).

It's overwhelming. The feeling of wanting something you'll never have.

It's weird to think about, but Quinn's almost certain that everything she's ever done has been because of Rachel. She can't help but wonder if at the beginning of it all, Quinn was just made for Rachel and Rachel was just made for her.

It's crazy to think about such things when Quinn hasn't even spoken to Rachel in six years. She knows she's setting herself up for heartbreak and ruin. She knows she needs to stop these childish fantasies.

She knows...and yet, she still goes.

* * *

Quinn Fabray is twenty five when she hears about Rachel's father's funeral. She's working on her fourth film (in freaking Paris) and she's received her first Oscar nod. She knows she's not going to get it, but the acknowledgement is nice.

It feels rewarding to have found a career that's just so easy for her. It feels even more rewarding that people can see how easy it is for Quinn to portray these arrays of characters. She knows she's going to be **big**, and the most important thing is that everyone else knows too.

She loves Paris. The fashion is amazing and the men are attractive. The females are exquisite and the food is to die for. It feels like her _home_ and she doesn't ever want to leave.

Then she receives that phone call. It's surprising, that it's taken this long for the news to travel through the line of Gleeks. Quinn's grateful that it traveled in the first place.

As soon as she hears the news from Mercedes, she's on the phone with Santana.

"Q, the funeral is tomorrow, I'm not entirely certain that I can get you back in time."

Quinn is shoving clothes in a suitcase, her phone in between her ear and her shoulder. "I don't care, S. Just make it happen."

"Quinn..."

Quinn stands still, a bottle of shampoo in her hands. "Santana. We have to be there. _I _have to be there."

Santana sighs. "I get it, Q, believe me. I want the munchkin to know we support her and shit...even if she hasn't sent me one of her obnoxiously long emails like she has with every-"

"S," Quinn warns gently.

"Right, right. Sorry. I get it, okay? I'm just not sure if I _get it_."

Quinn takes a deep breathe. It's now or never. "I love her, Santana."

Santana doesn't miss a beat. "I know."

The hole in her heart felt like it was finally starting to grow a little smaller.

* * *

Quinn is twenty five and a half when Santana calls her on Skype to tell her about a business opportunity. She's taking a break in between films because it's starting to get cold and the cold always reminds her that her bones ache.

The cold reminds her of the things that could have been and she feels like she owes it something.

She's recently gotten back into contact with Rachel. They emailed a few times a week. While it isn't exactly what Quinn wanted, it was still the start of something. Rachel never mentioned the bus passes she sent Quinn and Quinn never mentions the fact that she still has them.

Mostly because it's kind of creepy, but also because she likes having something that's just hers.

Santana calls her and tells her about this show she's creating. Quinn listens because Santana has honestly had some of the best ideas in the business.

She's wary when she learns that there's going to be singing. She's even more wary when she learns that it's going to be a television show.

"S, I didn't give up one show just so I can go back to another."

Santana pushed her glasses forward and leaned into the webcam. Her movements were broken a bit since Quinn was in a place of terrible reception. She was just glad that Skype was working at all.

"I know. But listen, Fabray, this shit is going to be big. Trust me."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "When have I ever _not_ trusted you?"

"That one time I tried to cut your hair."

Quinn scoffed and poked the computer screen. "Let me just remind you that I let you cut my hair _anyway_, and I ended up with an almost crew cut."

Santana laughed. "Yeah, but you pulled it off, didn't you?"

Quinn looked away. "I don't know, Santana."

"Rachel's in it. She's going to be the other lead."

Quinn snapped her gaze back to Santana. That sneaky little devil. She watched as Santana's mouth pulled into a smirk.

"Why didn't you just open with that?"

* * *

Quinn Fabray is twenty seven when she wins her first Oscar.

Coincidentally, it's also the year Rachel wins her first Emmy, Tina and Mike welcome their first kid, Mercedes has her album go Platinum, and Joe (who's apparently alive and well) has his spiritual guidance book enter the New York Times Bestsellers list.

It's a big year for all of them and Quinn feels so proud. She's close, God, she's so close to happiness that she almost tastes it on her tongue in the mornings. For reason though, she still isn't quite _there_ and it's annoying as fuck.

It's also the year she gets another letter. It's two days before the Oscars and Quinn has been so busy with preparations that she's barely even had time for Rachel, and Rachel lived with her.

When she sees it on the counter table she's immediately curious. It seems to be the way she goes in these situations. She can't stop herself because she can never stop herself.

She doesn't pay any attention to the fact that the senders address is from Lima, OHIO. Quinn doesn't even take the time to consider waiting for Rachel. The girl was quickly becoming Quinn's best friend and if this was something serious, Rachel would no doubt have to help her through it.

Quinn doesn't wait though. She's always been a taker, it's what she does best. It's the only constant about her. It's the only constant that really counts.

She tears open the letter with more aggression than she means to. She pulls out the letter and watches as photos fall onto the table. She's curious, but she'd rather read the letter first.

She recognizes Finn's handwriting from first glance and she feels her body tense with dread. Which, really? It's just like Finn to stick to something as old and timeless as a handwritten letter, instead of conforming to something as simple as an email.

Quinn guesses that that's the point. After all, emails don't hurt like letters can.

_Dear Quinn,_

_I've wanted to write this letter to you for a long time. Kinda because I wanted to congratulate you for making a career out of people loving you. Kinda to apologize for not inviting you to my wedding. I don't regret it because your harshness has never really fit in here in Lima._

_There's a point to this letter and there's a reason why I sent it now, but before I get to that, I wanted to tell you a few things. The first picture I sent you is of Leighton, my daughter. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. She's two now and I love her to death. The second picture is of me and June, I love her and she gets me in a way that you and Rachel never did. Her biggest dreams always involve me and I kinda like that. The third is of me and Puck. He's okay, you know. Even though you don't bother to call him anymore. He had a hard year awhile ago when his girlfriend Amy had a miscarriage. They're better now, and married. That's his wife in the background._

Quinn dropped her eyes to the photos and picked up the one of Puck. He looked happy and his wife was beautiful. Quinn smiled, she was happy for him.

_I heard through the grapevine that you're living with Rachel now. I have no hard feelings about that, Rachel is allowed to be friends with whoever she wants. I just regret that I'm not one of them and that you are._

_You see, Quinn, you left Lima so many years ago without taking the chance to look back. You left me alone in a coffee shop because you thought that you were better than me, and maybe you're life now let's you believe that you are. But make no mistake, Quinn, you're not better than me. You're still that mean girl who took away my first relationship, who took away Rachel, and who took away my youth._

_It's been years, Quinn.__**Years **__since all of this has happened and years that I've thought about writing this. I wanted to take the time and wait because I knew that if I sent this earlier, you wouldn't see it as anything except a letter of hate._

_This isn't that, okay? I mean, it kinda is, but it still isn't. It's a reality check. I don't think it's fair that you get to go through life telling everyone where they're going to end up and who they are, without ever having someone do the same to you._

_You see, Quinn. You were right. You were changing, you were destined to leave Lima and be successful. You were different than me. But you know where you're wrong, Quinn? You don't have anything that I want. I might have small dreams but at least I'm happy. I might only ever have Lima, but at least I have love and Leighton and June. At least I'm satisfied._

_Which brings me to the rest of the photos. I really wish I was there to see your face, but I guess I'll just have to stick with my imagination. _

_That's right, Quinn. That's Puck and I with Beth. It's us with her at her 5th bday party, her 7th, her preschool graduation. It's us with her at her first day of 6th grade. The most recent one is of us taking her to the waterpark for her 11th birthday. She calls me *Uncle Finn*, Quinn. She knows that Puck is her real dad. She's met Burt and Judy and Russell, but she's never seen you._

_You see, Quinn. You might be successful and you might think that you're better than me...better than Lima. And maybe you are, who knows. But don't ever mistake my life as something smaller and less important than yours. Don't ever look at me as a failure because I chose to stay behind. Maybe I don't have riches, but I have family, love, and I have Beth._

_And that's more than I can say for you._

_Sincerely,_

_Finn_

_PS: Everyone says she looks like you. I choose not to see it._

Quinn's hands were shaking as she finished the letter. She threw the letter down and scrambled through the photos until she got to one of Beth.

**Beth.**

God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than Quinn could ever be if she tried. And she was smiling a toothy smile. She was grown up and smiling in a photo with _Finn._

Quinn immediately feels disgusted. She grabbed the photos and shoved them in an envelope, along with the the letter. She went into the kitchen and started searching for the bottles of wine that Rachel liked to pretend she didn't own. Quinn grabs three. She popped the corks off and started drinking without a glass.

Finn took something away from her and she knew he just did it to get her back. Puck had never-Puck had never spoken a word to her about Beth.

She had been terrified for an instant, that with time, Beth's image in her mind would go. She made peace with it though and concluded that not everyone was meant to be remembered to just anyone.

Now though, Quinn felt her world crashing down around her because all these years she only had her imagination, and now she had actual photos of Beth. She couldn't pretend she wasn't real anymore. She felt like everything was on fire and like she was trying desperately not to get burned. So she drank on an empty stomach and she kept drinking until she threw up in the sink.

And then she started again.

She was on her fifth bottle of wine when Rachel found her (a few hours later). Quinn had curled herself into a ball and she was staring at a photo of Beth that she had left out. In the photo Beth is standing with Shelby, and she's grinning. She looks so happy that it's confusing to Quinn why she feels so sad.

Quinn chose this life, she gave up her daughter so that Beth could be happy. And yet, Quinn still feels incredibly selfish. It's a topsy turvy way of thinking and Quinn just wants to go back to her bottle of wine.

Rachel walks into the kitchen with her usual smile. It takes her a moment to spot Quinn, but when she does, she looks horrified.

"Quinn, what's going on? Are you okay?!"

Quinn doesn't say anything because no words could make sense of what was in her head.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked, concerned. She kneels down in front of Quinn and follows her line of sight. "Oh, Quinn." Rachel whispers gently. "Oh, baby."

She grabs the bottle out of Quinn's hand and sits her up. "Quinn, don't do this to me now, okay? Don't pull away."

Quinn can't help it. She feels as though she's losing herself and she doesn't know how to get herself back. She wants to be okay, she wants to act like an adult and know what to do.

Instead she acts as though she's sixteen. It doesn't matter that she's well beyond those years, it only matters that that girl is still there. She starts to pull away from Rachel, physically and mentally.

Rachel grips onto Quinn harder. "Quinn, _please_, look at me."

Quinn shifted her eyes so that she could make eye contact.

"Where did you get this?"

Quinn shrugged.

"Okay...okay, look, Quinn. This is coming from me, okay? This is coming from the Rachel Berry who grew up adopted." Rachel sighs. "You did the best thing for her that you could have possibly done. Just look at her."

Quinn looks down at the photo that Rachel's holding.

"She looks happy, Quinn."

That's all it took for Quinn to snap out of it. She jerked her head back and pulled away from Rachel. "You're right, Rach. You're absolutely right." She's always been right in everything, she's always been right for Quinn.

Rachel grinned, glad to see bits of her Quinn breaking back through. She grabbed a couple of bottles of wine from the floor before noticing the envelope Quinn had shoved the photos into.

"Hey, what's that?"

Quinn snatched the envelope off the ground. "It's nothing."

It wasn't a lie because he _was_ nothing.

* * *

Quinn is twenty seven when she makes her first Oscar acceptance speech.

It's been a rough few days since the letter and Quinn can't help but feel like she deserves this.

Her Oscar speech is not much better than her Emmy one. In the end, Quinn doesn't really care. She's just hoping that Beth is watching because that hole in her heart feels larger now, and all Quinn wants to do is fix it.

"This is insane! Wow, I hope I make it through this speech without crying." The audience laughed as Quinn smiled. "Honestly, I know who I'm supposed to thank and I know who I want to thank...so," Quinn hesitated as she lifted her statue in the air. "This is for Rachel Berry and Beth- _my_ Beth. This is for anyone who's ever had someone...someone who gave them the power to dream of bigger and better things. Thank you, to those people."

* * *

Quinn Fabray is twenty eight when her onscreen character gets kissed by Rachel's onscreen character. She would have been surprised, but she knew that this was Santana's intention all along.

She buys Santana a dozen red roses and buys herself a pack of gum. She's built up this moment in her head so many times that Quinn just wants it to be _perfect_.

It doesn't matter if it's real or not, Quinn just counts down the days until she gets to feel Rachel.

The moment Rachel's lips finally touch hers is like an explosion for Quinn. She can't hear, she can't breathe, and she can't think. Everything is just _Rachel_.

Rachel stays connected to Quinn's lips longer than necessary and it gives Quinn hope. When Rachel finally pulls away, it's long after Santana has yelled cut. Santana has a smug smile on her face and Rachel has enough gall to look embarrassed.

Rachel licked her lips. "Is that kiwi?"

"Mango," Quinn answers, a smile on her face.

"Alright you two lovebirds, let's try this shit again."

Rachel winks at Quinn and she can't help the blush that starts to creep up her neck. "My pleasure."

Quinn finds comfort in the fact that each kiss makes that hole in her heart grow just a bit smaller.

* * *

Quinn Fabray is twenty nine when she takes a trip with Rachel to New York for Kurt and Blaine's wedding. She's never really been close to them but she knows it's important to Rachel that she go.

They're not an item, not yet. Quinn knows the way she feels. She can feel the pressure weighing down on her tongue, just begging for her to say it. But she can't. It's only been a couple months and she knows Rachel isn't ready yet, that Rachel can't see how Quinn's sun has always risen for Rachel.

They're at a restaurant with Kurt and Blaine the night before their wedding. Blaine is surprisingly calm while Kurt just looks like he's going batshit crazy. Quinn has to hand it to them, Kurt never quite made it to Broadway, but he seemed happy. And he seemed happy for Blaine's success.

They're halfway through dinner and Quinn is in the middle of an argument with Rachel when she hears it. She's trying not to look like a sap because Rachel keeps giving her these puppy eyes and Quinn just wants to cave.

But she can't and she won't. Quinn loves her bacon and she'll be damned if she let's Rachel switch it out for veggie bacon. That's not even real meat!

She's ready to respond to Rachel when she hears her name being called from behind her.

"Quinn? Quinn Fabray?"

Quinn's mouth drops open when she turns around. Rachel tilts her head at her and Quinn does her best to not look worried.

"Hey, Chloe!"

Quinn gets out of her chair to hug the girl. Chloe is just as blonde and beautiful as she was all those years ago. She notices Rachel's frown as her arms encircle Chloe's waist and she makes a mental note to not bring up her past with Chloe.

Chloe is grinning when they pull apart, so Quinn let's herself smile too. "What are you doing here, Chloe?"

The last Quinn heard Chloe was finishing up her business degree. It didn't really make sense why she'd be in New York.

"Actually, I own this place."

Quinn opens her mouth in surprise. "Really? I had no idea!"

Chloe nods. "Yeah, after I graduated I decided that I really wanted to invest in an upscale restaurant, and here I am! I just really wanted something that had to do with food."

"Well, you were always good at eating things."

Kurt starts to choke behind Quinn while Chloe laughs. "Yeah, I suppose you could say that."

Quinn felt her face get red. This conversation was slowly going from bad to worse.

Chloe claps her hands together when she notices Rachel's glare. "This place is my heart and soul, ya know? So, enjoy yourself, okay?"

Quinn grabbed Chloe's arm. "Wait. I guess I just never guessed because the place is called Lucy's. I always figured you'd use your own name or something."

Quinn hears Rachel cough behind her and that's when she realizes the words that just left her mouth. Quinn doesn't need to look back to know that Rachel is getting upset, she can feel Rachel's intense gaze on the back of her head. She looks at Chloe and notices how she has her bottom lip smashed in between her teeth.

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

"Quinn, let go of her arm."

Quinn immediately let's go as Rachel appears beside her. It doesn't take a genius to realize that Rachel is jealous. In fact, if this situation wasn't so awkward for Quinn, Quinn would have to say that jealousy was a good look on Rachel.

Chloe raised her eyebrows in amusement. "And who are you?"

Rachel stuck her hand in between Quinn and Chloe, as if she was trying to create distance.

"I, am Quinn's _girlfriend_." Rachel practically growls out.

The hole in Quinn's heart has never felt smaller.

It isn't until hours later when they're in their hotel bed together that Rachel brings up the subject again. Quinn is caught somewhere in between her dreams and reality, so she almost misses Rachel's question

"What?" Quinn asks, anyway.

"Who was that girl from the restaurant?"

Quinn sighs. "Would you forget about her if I said she was just a college roommate?"

Rachel proceeded to shake her head no, but she spent the rest of the night making sure Quinn forgot all about Chloe.

It's nice to know that maybe Rachel finally feels the way that Quinn does (that Quinn always has).

* * *

Santana Lopez is thirty three when she stands up next to her best friend and watches her say "I do" to literally the shortest person in all of Lima, Ohio. She's hot and she's sticky and these dresses that Quinn picked out are atrocious. She has a sneaking suspicion that Rachel was really the one who was behind these maid of honor dresses, because really? Quinn knows better than to put Santana in lavender. It's a terrible color for her skin tone.

She was successful in her own right. She had two television shows currently on the air, she just produced one of the biggest movies known to man, and she was still with Brittany. Yeah, it sucked sometimes to think about how she never made it in front of the camera, but Santana thinks she likes it better this way.

This way she gets to create things instead of visualize them.

Santana mattered in the way she always wanted to and she was free to love Brittany the way she was always meant to. It didn't surprise her that Quinn hit the level of fame she had once wanted. Quinn had always been the actress, even when nobody else around her knew it. So it made sense for things to end up this way.

Santana had known-God, how she had know-that Quinn was infatuated with Rachel freaking Berry. Santana had known since they were fifteen and Quinn had ordered the first slushy to hit Rachel Berry's face. She knew unrequited love when she saw it, Quinn just needed the time to figure it out. Sure, it disgusted Santana to see Quinn grow so attached to the midget, but hey, love comes in all sizes. So, _whatever_.

Granted, Santana had never decided that it would take her years. But Quinn was always a bit of a slow roller, it took her time to get her shit going. Santana is just happy that Quinn got her girl because she couldn't stand another year of those fucking wounded eyes and glass heart.

It doesn't even bother her that she's standing in the middle of the sun in some hot ass weather, or that Rachel looks like she's about to spew some disgusting Rom-Com speech shit. Santana grimaces when she realizes she was right.

"Quinn, I think I've always loved you, even when I didn't want to. I think I've always needed you, even when I didn't think so. I know that I've always wanted you, even when I couldn't admit it. You're imperfectly perfect and I'm glad to forever call you mine."

Santana grumbles. It's disgusting. At least Quinn's vows were more badass than that. Nobody needed to hear mushy vows to know that Quinn and Rachel were always meant to be "Quinn and Rachel".

There were moments, when Santana hadn't been so sure that they'd make it. There was the time where Quinn had said she loved Rachel and Rachel had said "Thank You" in return. That fight had ended with Quinn on her couch and a very drunk Rachel at her door with a boombox. Quinn thought it was romantic but Santana thought she was fucking crazy. It was two am, no sane person shows up with a blasting boombox at two am.

The second time happened when Rachel found out about Quinn sending Finn away. To Santana, Rachel was being difficult. She didn't see the type of history that Quinn and Finn shared, and Rachel couldn't see how much of a sad-sack Finn really was. That fight had ended with Rachel at Kurt's and Quinn at his door. That fight had ended when Santana (because she's Quinn's best friend and her main bitch) showed up shortly after with the letter Finn had sent Quinn years ago.

(Of course she knew about the letter. She had read it by accident-yes, by accident- years ago when she was looking for some lip gloss she could steal from Quinn. It took a lot of manpower-and even more Brittany-to keep Santana from putting his body in the ground.)

She gave the letter to Rachel (against Quinn's protests) and she watched as the short stack became consumed with rage. Quinn was all high and mighty about the situation. Quinn didn't want Rachel to hate Finn just because of her.

Santana just wanted Rachel to hate Finn. **(Mission accomplished.)**

It ended like all of Rachel and Quinn's fights did, dirty sex in the living room and promises to do better.

The last fight was by far the largest and Santana had it pegged for days. She could see the way that Rachel looked at Quinn, how her face always seemed to want to scream that Quinn was hers. Yes, Rachel was possessive, and it made sense because Quinn was fucking smoking hot. But Santana saw past that, she saw it for what it really was.

Rachel wanted Quinn to give her reassurance that she could be Rachel's forever, and Quinn just couldn't commit like that. The fight started because Rachel suspected Quinn's costar had a thing for her (which, btw, she totally did) and it ended because Quinn just couldn't give in.

That fight was the worst. It turned Quinn into the saddest lump of shit that Santana had ever seen. It took two months for both girls to pull their head out of their asses and realize that this is where they should have been all along. That they should have always been a _them._

It was disgusting how good they were together, and how better they were after that fight. It was gross for Santana to see how much they loved one another. She wasn't down for any of this Lifetime shit, she was just happy to not have Quinn moping around anymore.

Santana Lopez is thirty three when she watches her best friend get married to her high school enemy. She's bored and she's tired of the sun and she thinks that Quinn is overplaying all this wedding shit. But, Santana _deals_, because as she watches Quinn kiss Rachel, she realizes that this is the first time she's ever seen Quinn so unconditionally happy. She can't help but think that maybe it was all worth it all because Quinn Fabray was thirty three and finally happy.


End file.
